Favorites
by Addie Riddle
Summary: "A real mother, a true mother, never plays favorites." Mrs. Weasley has a conversation with Harry one summer day about her favorite child. R/R, will review all who review me.
1. Kitchen Talks

Not for the first time, nor the last, a shout rang out from the kitchen of the burrow.

"A fire? A _fire_? Have you two lost it? What were you thinking?" Mrs. Weasley was yelling, arms flailing about. Across from her sat the twins at the table, sheepish looks on their faces. Fred flinched at the sound of his mother's voice.

"Mum we didn't mean-"

"I don't care what you meant, it still happened! Honestly, you two are going to be _seventh_ years! The rate you're going you won't last a week in the real world! You need to take responsibility! Stop the foolish jokes, and _get serious_."

"Mum, we _are-_"

"How do you expect to make it on your own? How do you expect to amount to _anything_ with this silly little pranks? You two are _seventeen_. _Adults_. I ask you just simply de-gnome the garden, it's not a hard task! And what happens? Within five minutes I find out a cat from the village is on fire in my own yard!"

"It wasn't like-"

"I've tried, goodness knows I've tried! Not matter what I do, you two just _won't listen_, and do whatever you want anyway! You need to be _responsible_ and _mature_! Think of the example you're setting for Ginny! She'll grow up thinking she can do whatever she wants, and someone else will face her consequences!"

"Mum, that's a bit-"

"I shudder to think of what would have happened if Percy hadn't looked out his window that moment! What do you two expect to do when there's no one around to watch you? You'll kill yourselves! Honestly, when I think about how much more growing up you have to do, and at your age . . . you owe Percy, if he hadn't looked out that window, who knows?"

"We _owe_ Percy? Mum that's a little extreme."

"Perfect Percy, us being lesser mortals obviously owe him George."

Mrs. Weasley wheeled around, facing Fred and glared. "You could do with being like Percy. Why at your age he-"

" 'Had already figured out his life and had it all planned out'. Mum, we've heard this all before!"

"Well, if you would just listen the first time around-"

"Mum, we do listen," George suddenly burst out, his face flushed with anger. Mrs. Weasley stepped back involuntarily, a look of shock on her face. "You're the one who doesn't! Did you even bother to ask _us_ what happened? No! You just assumed what Percy said was the truth, and nothing else! You only care about Percy's side of the story, and you always have. You've always treated him better then us, acted like we weren't worth as much as him. Like we were just _failures_. Like you had to mold us into little Percy clones, just so we'd be mean _anything_.Well, Mum, I hate to disappoint you, but WE ARE NOT PERCY!" George jumped up, knocking his chair over and bolted out the back door. Without a moments hesitation Fred followed after his twin, pausing only at the door to turn back to Mrs. Weasley.

"He's right, you do realize. Everything he said was true, and you know it." With that Fred walked out the door, his faint calls for George slowly fading away. Mrs. Weasley stood in front of the sink, her eyes wide, jaw slightly opened. She seated herself down, stunned, and tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill. As she sat there, dazed and confused, a small sound was heard off to her right. Mrs. Weasley glanced over and cringed.

There stood Harry in the doorway, shifting from one foot to the other, obviously nervous. He had just arrived at the Burrow that morning, and had spent most of the day in Ron's room with Hermione and Ron. Guilty looks flashing across his face, he cleared his throat again. Then shifted once more.

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long. Just long enough to hear George." Harry hastily added, "I came down to get a drink, and I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I just-"

Mrs. Weasley sighed and waved a hand and his stammering explanations faltered. "It's alright, really. You couldn't help hearing us. I doubt people in the village could help hearing us." She stood up and waved towards the table. "Sit, sit. I'll get you that drink."

Harry nodded and picked up the chair George had just knocked over, and sank down into it. Mrs. Weasley walked back over, a glass of cold water in her hands. "It's pretty hot out today." Harry commented, taking the glass from her grip.

Mrs. Weasley nodded and sat back down. "You don't think-" she paused, "You don't think they meant what they said, did they? It was just angry words, meant to get to me, right, not what they really feel?"

Harry put the glass down, and looked around the kitchen, avoiding Mrs. Weasley's gaze. "I uh . . . er, that is to say . . ." he stopped.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be asking you this! I must be making you terribly uncomfortable, I'm sorry!"

Harry sighed and replied, "No really it's okay. You were just speaking aloud." A few moments of silence passed and he added, "But in all honesty, I think they may feel like that sometimes. Just sometimes, and I'm sure you don't mean it, and they know that, but-"

"But they still do feel what they feel." Mrs. Weasley looked away, "I don't mean to, you're right about that." After what seemed to be like she was deciding on something, she spoke up again, looking directly at where Harry was lightly biting a lip, more nervous than before. "I don't mean to play favorites. I shouldn't. A true mother doesn't. I can't help it though. I've tried to convince myself there was just something wrong with me, but . . . oh, I made myself promise the others would never find out."

Harry nodded, as if he could relate, as if he was urging her to go on. It seemed like the thing to do. Mrs. Weasley paid no attention.

"I suppose the rest of the kids think it's Percy I favor, and I can see why. I _am _proud of him, and I _do_ love him, but it's not Percy. I guess I just let the other kids think that so they don't know."

Harry looked up in shock. "It's not Percy? Well, I don't mean to pry, but if it's not Percy then-"

"Who?" Mrs. Weasley looked down and said, in a voice just above a whisper, "Did Ron ever tell you the story of when Fred and George were born? He's must of heard it a thousand times, at least."

Harry shook his head, gripping the glass.

"He hasn't? Well, I suppose it's not something that just comes up in conversations, now is it?" Mrs. Weasley sighed, and then started into her tale. "I was halfway through the seventh month of pregnancy with those two, when I went into labor. I don't suppose you know much about pregnant woman, Harry, but that was early. Too early. And in pregnancy language that meant Something Was Wrong."

Mrs. Weasley got this far-off look in her eyes, as if she was remembering. Harry drained his glass, and looked back at Mrs. Weasley, willing her to go on.

"I was rushed to St. Mungo's. Arthur was so worried and frantic. He'd been through this three times before, but he was still always so frazzled when the time came. I was hurried right into the maternity section of the hospital, and the doctors had to induce birth. Fred was born first. He was so tiny, and so little . . . weighed just over four pounds, and fit in Arthur's hand. He was put right into a incubator, barely able to breathe on his own. While they were situating Fred, I prepared for George. It was near seven minutes before he was born."

As Harry listened, fascinated, Mrs. Weasley discreetly brushed a tear out of her eyes.

"All that worry and panicking, and George - George was stillborn. Blue. Every mother's worst nightmare. My little boy - my brand new baby boy - couldn't breathe. He was born _dead_. _Dead_. I started bawling on the spot."

Harry gasped but Mrs. Weasley paid him no attention.

"Arthur started yelling for the doctors to do something, to fix his boy. He yelled himself hoarse, squeezing my hand the whole time. But I could see tears streaming down his face. The doctors took him over by where Fred was and started to try and get him to breathe, but nothing was working. It was then, while I was sobbing and Arthur started to quiet down, and we both prepared to say good-bye to one of our newest additions, that George started bawling his eyes out, screaming at the top of his little lungs. He startled Fred and they both started howling, making such a racket. One of the best sounds I've ever heard in my life."

Mrs. Weasley ignored the tears streaming down her face. Unsure of what to do, Harry just sat there, waiting for the rest.

"They let me hold George before they put him in an incubator like they did to Fred. He was just as little as Fred, with a slight blue tinge still in his cheeks. When I first held him tight, it was like this instant bond was made and I was flooded with so much love. I started crying again, this time for joy. I knew right away that I loved George so much, perhaps a bit more than the others, and I knew that was wrong. But I couldn't help it. He was my boy, my baby boy, the one I almost lost forever. No one else could ever know that I had a favorite. Never. It didn't take away from my love for the others, but it was still wrong."

Harry nodded, stunned at the story he had just heard. His jaw hung slightly open, and his eyes were slightly wide.

"I don't mean to make them feel like they aren't as good as Percy, it's just the twins have so much _potential_, and could do anything they want. Anything. Whenever I give them a little push, it seems to at least help a little. They could be so _much_, they don't know. I'm just trying to get them to get more serious and responsible."

Harry managed to find his voice and croak out "Have you told _them_ this?"

Mrs. Weasley snapped her head up and looked at Harry as if she had forgotten he was there. Which, he supposed, she had.

"Tell them? No I . . . " She stood up and took Harry's glass back to the sink. "Ron and Hermione must be looking for you. You've been down here awhile." Mrs. Weasley said in a strained voice.

Shrugging Harry stood up and walked back towards the stairs. If Mrs. Weasley didn't want to talk anymore, he wouldn't force her. He started the trip up to Ron's room, thinking about everything he had just been told. George and Fred were lucky to have such a caring, loving mother. All the Weasley children were. And he was lucky just to know her.

__

Not that she's my favorite mother, Harry thought, smiling,_ a true son doesn't play favorites, but I can't help it. Mum, I miss you and I'll always love you. Until we meet again._


	2. Author's Notes - More?

I was thinking of adding another chapter to this, but I don't know . . . it seems to work by itself. Maybe I could write a chapter from Fred and George's point of view, right after they left the kitchen. Perhaps a chapter on what Percy's feeling . . . maybe one on Harry, after he walks back upstairs. I really like this as a one-shot, but if you really want to see more, let me know. Until later then!


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